


Fourteenth Christmas

by tatooedlaura



Series: Christmas [15]
Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 19:12:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10600389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatooedlaura/pseuds/tatooedlaura
Summary: Only Mulder would suggest the Philippines for a Christmas holiday when Scully was thinking, at most, maybe, maybe Hawaii, to escape the darkness.





	

Only Mulder would suggest the Philippines for a Christmas holiday when Scully was thinking, at most, maybe, maybe Hawaii, to escape the darkness. They’d pulled down a fair amount of money consulting on the FBI case and the pair of them decided a vacation was in order. Scully off-handedly suggested Hawaii, Mulder tossed two plane tickets to the other side of the world on the bed one night.

She hadn’t argued and now, at this very moment, they were shaded by palm frond umbrellas with their feet in the Pacific Ocean roasting their ever-loving asses off while everyone else they knew in the world was buried under two feet of snow.

Clinking glasses with Mulder, “pretty sure I’m never going home. I wonder how to resign from the hospital without having to actually move more than a quarter inch from this spot?”

“Just don’t go back. Eventually they’ll realize you aren’t just taking a really, really long lunch.”

With a grin, she took a deep pull on her straw, rattling both ice cubes and tiny umbrellas, the alcohol sliding smoothly down her throat, “a few more of these and I may just forget I ever had a job in the first place.”

“Drink up.”

As they lay there, nothing but ocean ahead of them, Mulder unconsciously rolled his ankle several times before Scully reached her fingers over, touching his wrist, “do you still feel it there sometimes?”

“Like fucking ghost shackles. Right now, one ankle actually feels heavier than the other and I tell myself I’m an idiot but still, I gotta lift it up just to make sure.”

Crawling her hand up to hold his, “well, you’ll never get it back now. You are free and clear and as far from any of it and them as you could possibly be.”

His mind wouldn’t let it go but he swallowed his anxiety and gave her a smile, “better knock on some wood there, Scully.”

“Never took you for superstitious.” Her eyes danced in his direction, “unless you’ve been throwing salt over your shoulders for years in secret.”

“I always sweep up when I’m done.” Taking her drink and setting it on the table on his other side, he then stood, beckoning towards the waves, “come on, I want to go see if I still remember how to body surf.”

About to let him go so she could keep relaxing in the sun, she saw the hope in his eyes and immediately bounced up beside him, “right behind you.”

He stared at her fully from head to toe and back up, eyes dragging clothes off, imaginary tongue tracing her soon to be showing tan lines, his hands toying with the smooth skin of her breasts …

If he didn’t get in the water right now, he was going to have an issue.

&&&&&&&&&&&

On their row boat, the one that came with their little over-the-water hut, Mulder had packed a lunch, several blankets and plenty of sunscreen. The rowing had been a damn chore but seeing her lounging across from him, sun hat low, turquoise bikini turning his brain to mush, he couldn’t think of a better way to spend the rest of his life.

They’d been buzzed by a helicopter with National Geographic emblazoned on the side, taking what Scully assumed to be program footage but Mulder, swallowing hard, waved but wondered if maybe the camera was meant for them, following them, tracing their whereabouts, tracking them to the ends of the Earth.

Scully chased that thought to the back of his mind, however, when she undid the front string of her bikini and let it fall to her sides, full breasts bared for him and him alone. Immediately abandoning the oars, he threw a blanket on the bottom of the boat and proceeded to remove the bottom half of her suit with his teeth.

He then used his tongue to get her to yell his name for absolutely no one in the world to hear but him in possibly the most erotically charged thing they’d ever done. He then dropped his own suit, sliding into her as the boat drifted across the crystal-clear seas with no destination in mind.

&&&&&&

That night, however, lying naked under the gauze canopy surrounding their bed, he woke, terrified, a nightmare the likes of which he hadn’t experienced in years clenching his throat, squeezing his heart and lungs to twisted wreckages. Scully looked justifiably terrified as well, gripping his fists inches from her face and chest, stopping him moments before he apparently would have beaten the living hell out of her.

When Mulder could finally comprehend where he was and remember how to get oxygen to his brain, he pulled away from her, sliding across the smooth, wooden floor until he came in contact with the rounded wall, sliding down it to rest on his back end in a crouch. Catching her breath, she moved to get out of bed as well, follow him, hold him but he held up his hand, “don’t.”

“Mulder?”

“Just … don’t. Not yet.”

Reaching over to the chair, she pulled on a tank top and a pair of Mulder’s basketball shorts, cinching them up tight around her waist before she sat down on the floor, leaning on the bed, a respectable distance from her shattering partner, knowing he would call her when he was ready.

It took awhile but eventually, he managed to meet her eye. All it took was that half-second connection for her to scoot across the floor, sliding in between his lifted knees, dragging a beach towel with her to settle over his shoulders before moving to hug him. He accepted her touch, gathering her up, her warm flesh against his chilled skin, fear making him colder than he should be for the climate. Scully, feeling the sheen of cold sweat, coaxed him to stand, pulling him to the bed to lie down. He burrowed into her, hiding his head in her breasts.

“Mulder? Mulder, hon, please, tell me what you were dreaming?”

She so rarely pulled out the ‘hon’ that it caught his ear and he released his strangle hold on her waist, “did I hurt you?”

Pulling his head up slightly, she kissed his damp hair, hand combing behind his ear, “no. I’m fine. I promise.”

“They were coming for us. That damn helicopter was spying for them and they found us and they came in here and were trying to take you and …” shutting his eyes and pressing his ear to her heart, “they’re not taking you from me again.”

“Of course, they aren’t. There isn’t anyone who really wants us anymore. We don’t have to hide. We can go on vacation, get jobs, go to the store.” Taking his face in her hands so she could look at him, “when we get back, so help me God, we are going to the grocery store, then we’re going to go to an actual bookstore, then, to go totally wild, we’re going to eat at Mickey’s Diner and not just stop for the takeout.”

Having finally gotten some semblance of his faculties back, Mulder met her eyes, wishing it were all true and hanging on her words as if they were golden hooks of truth hung from heaven itself. Scully recognized that look and slipped from his grasp for a moment, shedding her meager clothing to press against him fully, she continued her ministrations to his splintered psyche, her fingers running over him, kneading a muscle here, ringing a collarbone there until he came back to her all at once with a Mulderesque quip, “but I don’t actually miss the grocery shopping.”

With a relieved groan, she snaked limbs and torso over him, the warm ocean breeze floating through their room, chasing away the last vestiges of chill from his skin, “what happened?”

Having thought he was long past hiding his dreams from her, he hesitated, “I already told you.”

“No, I mean, was it really a simply helicopter that brought on your first nightmare in years or has this been happening and it’s the first time I’ve been around for it?”

Mulder settled his lips against her forehead, “first nightmare but I’ve … I’ve been … ever since … I’ve been … wondering about things for a couple of months … maybe the last year?”

“Wondering what?”

“If maybe things aren’t as finished as you think.”

Her body shivered despite the climate as this idea bored itself quickly into her soul, “why do you think that? Has something happened you didn’t tell me?”

“No, no … I … I think I’ve just been in that house too long. Maybe I need to do the grocery shopping after all.” Hugging her to him as he felt another quaver pass up her spine, “I’m okay. Just … it was just that stupid black helicopter … hovering there.” Fingers playing up her bared ribs, “I’ll go hunt down the supermarket as soon as we get home and dinner at Mickey’s sounds great.”

“I know you know I know you’re full of shit, right?”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Should I stop questioning you for now?”

No anger hiding behind his words, “yes, please. I just want to see how much of your skin I can taste before you demand a good, hard fuck off the side of the bed.”

Despite her misgivings and concerns, his blunt proposition told her that he was swimming his way slowly back to being Mulder and the wet rush at his whispered ‘taste’ melted her into primal compliance.

&&&&&&&&&&

The next morning, she woke late, sprawled from one end of the bed to the other, foot dangling, bare ass warm from the hint of sun passing through the gently flapping curtains. Lifting her head to look around, she noticed not only was she alone but there was a mysterious, wrapped package on the nightstand. For a brief, terrifying moment, she fleetingly wondered in this could possibly be some kind of package bomb, explosive container, alien virus.

Well, fuck.

Shaking her head, she realized the thing was wrapped in plain brown paper and had Mulder’s handwriting all over it. Rolling to her back, she immediately forgot any kind of dark thoughts, “Mulder?”

His voice carried from downstairs, “up in a second.” Patiently waiting in that way she’d learned with him by their second case, she smiled when he walked into the room stark naked, carrying a tray with fruit, bread, cheese and water, “Merry Christmas!”

Sitting up, she let the sheets fall where they may, giving Mulder a view he drooled over a little but kept his cool, walking just a little faster to the bed to kiss her good morning, “Merry Christmas, Mulder!”

Settling tray and himself, he then handed her her box, “happy 14th Christmas.”

First popping several grapes in her mouth, she removed the paper, revealing a box which, when opened, revealed another box, which, in succession, revealed a third box and finally a well-packed, stained-glass, heavy and beautiful cross, complete with starburst sunrays in the most brilliant of reds-orange hues. Holding it up, catching that stray beam of sun that had warmed her earlier, the ornament glowed, “God. Mulder. It’s … beyond beautiful but I don’t have a word for that right now so it’s …” mesmerized, she trailed for a second before, “I found my word … it’s radiant.”

Mulder beamed himself a little here, reaching out to spin it gently, “I had them pack it like I’d be shipping it home. That’s why there were so many boxes but I thought it might be fun to have to work a little for it.”

Poking him in the shin with her toe, “make me work for my Christmas gifts. That’s just mean.”

“But you still love me.”

“Yeah … I know.”

Watching it a few more seconds, she then lay it gently on the pillow, rolling off the bed to amble to her suitcase, digging then retrieving her own gift. Handing it over, “I bought yours with me.”

Always giddy for a gift, he tore into it, finding an ornament replicating the United States. Squinting towards it, he then looked at her, “are all these dots what I think they are?”

“Yes. It matches, as best I could anyways, the map we made years ago in your apartment. That’s everyplace we’ve been together, both on cases and vacations and even while we were running. I had to update it from the one on your wall a little, given we had another 10 years of travel after.” From his smile, he didn’t mind that she’d included their ‘on the lam’ destinations, “I thought it’d be a good reminder that I’d follow you anywhere, anytime.”

Crushing her in a sudden hug, he apologized quietly again for the previous night, then kissed her, tasting grapes and cheese on her tongue, “and I’d follow you.”


End file.
